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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23426779">Fight The Break Of Dawn</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/DinoPrincess/pseuds/DinoPrincess'>DinoPrincess</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alien Biology, Angst, Happy Ending, Kid Fic, M/M, Maria DeLuca &amp; Michael Guerin Friendship, Mostly canon Complaint, Mpreg, No season 2 spoilers, Non Graphic, Non-Explicit, Past Rape/Non-con, Pod Squad (Roswell), eventually, many medical inaccuracies from a medical professional, the lost decade</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 10:15:20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>18,553</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23426779</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/DinoPrincess/pseuds/DinoPrincess</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael is fifteen, and his blood is staining the desert sand.<br/>Michael is seventeen and dares to be hopeful.<br/>Michael is twenty-one and he's completely alone.<br/>Michael is twenty-two and he thinks his family is going to be okay.<br/>Michael is twenty-four and his baby is the most beautiful thing he's seen on this earth.<br/>Michael is twenty-five, he's twenty-six, he's twenty-seven.<br/>Michael is twenty-eight, and Alex comes back.</p><p>In just a couple of years, Michael loses some blood, his left hand, his future, his family, the love of his life, and his faith in humankind.<br/>It takes him a decade, but evantually he makes a friend, earns a college degree, defeats a villain, brings his family back together, adds to it in ways he never thought possible, and maybe, just maybe, if he tries really hard, wins the love of his life back.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Michael Guerin/Alex Manes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>64</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>184</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>HI there! hope you're all staying sane in quarantine.<br/>This fic is a season one re-imagining, where some of the main events happen in the decade between graduation and the starting point of the season. there are no season two spoilers, as this was entirely plotted out before the premier.<br/>Some of the topics this fic deals with might be upsetting, I will explain potential triggers in the end notes, please take care of yourselves and message me for clarifications if needed.<br/>As for the mpreg, well, I couldn't resist the possibility of alien biology and the drama of accidental baby. There is no A/B/O or body horror. Neither the sex nor the birth are explicit.  Hopefully it will not turn you off the fic :)</p><p>Title from "save tonight" by Eagle-Eye Cherry, which I fond to be a very Malex song. you can listen to it here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Nntd2fgMUYw</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Michael is fifteen, and his blood is dripping slowly down onto the desert sand. It’s like a sacrifice, he thinks. An offering to the desert that birthed him, in a manner of speaking. A life for a life. Huh, maybe all the religious mambo jumbo from the home is starting to get to him. Better not think about that right now. Better not think of the pain deep inside him either.</p>
<p><br/>Better lay down on the desert sand, still warm from the summer sun, look up at the stars, and not think at all.</p>
<p>………………………………………………………………..</p>
<p>Michael is sixteen, or at least it says so on the paperwork the nice people from social services made up for him back when he came out of the desert. He doesn’t particularly care if it’s true or not, since being legally sixteen means he can finally drive the truck Sanders has been letting him work on for the last couple of months. And it’s good timing too, since it’s getting too cold to sleep under the bleachers. Also, he’s pretty sure Isobel is getting suspicious, but he’d rather freeze to death 30 feet from the high school’s football field than relay on the hospitality of Ann Evens.</p>
<p><br/>When Michael was eleven and first returned to Roswell, he was so incredibly relieved that Max and Isobel were safe, had parents and a home and never went to sleep hungry or hurt. And they were so so happy to see him, he doesn’t doubt that for a second, but they were also so unbelievably naïve. Like him being in the same municipal area meant they were automatically a happy family and everything was right in the world. God, how sheltered they were. Michael was astounded to realize they didn’t even know about acetone (though finding out about acetone was one of the things he didn’t like thinking about).</p>
<p><br/>Michael is well aware that they tend to think of him as their little brother, but honestly, he finds them amazingly young on occasion. Though less often since their fourteenth birthday, but that’s another thing he doesn’t think about.<br/>………………………………………………………………………</p>
<p>Michael is seventeen, and he’s optimistic. It’s a rather new feeling for him, and he relishes in it. He has the scholarship letter from NMU taped to the windshield of his truck, he’s been able to put in just enough hours at the junkyard to afford a used laptop in a decent condition and a good winter coat, and last night Alex Manes taught him how to play Green Day’s “Time of Your Life” on his big brother’s borrowed guitar.</p>
<p><br/>Alex Manes is… well. He didn’t expect Alex Manes. Alex Manes is angry in a recognizable way, but instead of hiding, keeping his head down, protecting his soft underbelly, Alex Manes flaunts his differences, shoves them in everybody’s’ faces. He takes the things that make him a target and wears them like armor. Michael finds him equally exhilarating and terrifying.</p>
<p><br/>When Alex confronted Michael at the parking lot about “borrowing” his guitar from the music room, Michael was pretty sure he was going to deck him, or at least report him to the school counselor or something. But instead, he offered him a warm place to sleep in, sharing an obviously much needed safe space, and Michael thought Alex Manes might be the bravest, stupidest (kindest) person he ever met. But then again, Michael took him up on his offer, so maybe all this brave stupidity is going around.</p>
<p><br/>He found himself craving it, the warm glow of safety and friendship. And he knows, he knows, it’s dangerous, but maybe, he dares to think, maybe just this once, Michael Guerin, Homeless Orphan Alien, gets everything (almost everything) he ever wanted.</p>
<p><br/>He’s not completely oblivious, though. He knows Alex likes him. Like, likes him likes him. Ugh. The thing is, he hasn’t decided yet whether somebody liking you like that means they want something from you. That’s why, he reasons with himself, he doesn’t let Alex kiss him in the shed that night. It’s not because he’s scared (it’s not because of the thing he doesn’t think about). Obviously, there’s nothing to be scared of (it’s nothing at all like that thing he doesn’t think about).</p>
<p><br/>And then Max, that hopeless romantic idiot, raves to him about “moments”, and, well. Maybe Michael is more of an idiot than he previously thought, because Max kinda makes sense? Well then, Michael might be an idiot, but he’s not a coward (see that, thing?), so he does the only thing he can think of, and kisses the hell out of Alex Manes under the fake stars of the cheesy UFO Museum.</p>
<p><br/>It might be the best thing that has ever happened to him. The very best. And he basks in it, in Alex’s light, drinks it up, soaks it in, like the parched desert opening up for the much-expected rain.</p>
<p><br/>It’s the best thing that ever happened to him, and then it’s the worst, and then it’s even worse than he could have possibly ever imagined.<br/>By the end of the night, the desert is once again watered in blood, so much blood, and not just his own.</p>
<p><br/>He drives out under the summer sky, to a spot where he likes to imagine he can still see his blood mixed with the desert sand (he doesn’t think about that), and he pulls and pulls with his mind (like that time he’s not quite successful in not thinking about) until he almost passes out, until the ground is again wet with his blood, until his hand sort of resembles a human (ha) hand again.</p>
<p><br/>This time, he thinks, it’s payment, not sacrifice. It’s the debt he owes to the desert, for thinking he could forget, for one second, for one single afternoon, where he comes from and what is his place in the universe. But he understands now. He won’t forget again. He won’t take his eyes off the goal (and he won’t take his eyes off of Isobel).</p>
<p><br/>So he doesn’t think about it (and doesn’t think about things he can’t have), and they never talk about it, and his hand never stops hurting.<br/>And he regrets things. A lot of things. But he never regrets Alex Manes.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Everything already written will be published in one batch, and then you can expect updates every other day or so.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Michael is nineteen, and he is very, very drunk.</p><p><br/>He’s been drunk quite a lot lately, he knows. Isobel is worried about him, and Max is… something about him. He doesn’t really remember right now. Maybe Max isn’t anything about him at all, actually. They don’t really talk a lot these days.</p><p><br/>So, Michael is drunk. And a little buzzed on acetone. He’s lying in the bed of his truck, his good hand dangling over the rail. He thinks there used to be a beer bottle in that hand, but there isn’t one now. Maybe he dropped it on the ground. He thinks that’s not a very nice way to treat the desert. He hopes he remembers to pick it up tomorrow morning.</p><p><br/>Sometimes, Michael thinks the desert is his true home. It’s alien enough, strange and other and hostile to human life. He thinks that maybe his home planet is all desert. Like Tatooine, or Dune. Maybe that’s why the only place on Earth that feels like home is the desert. Or maybe it’s all the blood he spilled onto the sand.<br/>He thinks about a lot of maybes nowadays.</p><p><br/>When he wakes up in the morning, there are dried tear tracks is the dust on his face. He thinks that maybe tonight he’ll go to the Dancing Pony instead of driving out to the desert with a cheap bottle of whatever. Deluca will probably serve him. And cut him off before he passes out. That’s the important bit. Maybe she’ll call Is or Max if he’s too drunk to drive.</p><p><br/>Maybe it’ll be better. Oh God does he hope it’ll be better. He could really use a little better.</p><p><br/>…………………………………………………………..</p><p>Michael is twenty, and he has a trailer now, an airstream really. He doesn’t really like people calling it a trailer, it makes him feel like everybody who ever called him trailer trash, every person who ever said he would amount to nothing, every schoolyard bully who laughed at his threadbare clothes and third-hand backpack, like they were right.</p><p><br/>Maybe they were. But he liked his trailer airstream.</p><p><br/>The airstream on which door someone was knocking, and quite insistently too, especially for, Fuck, 2:27 AM on a weeknight.</p><p><br/>When it became apparent, after a few minutes, that Michael isn’t going to be able to go back to sleep without dealing with whoever the fuck it is, he rolled out of bed with a groan, not bothering with any more clothes, and wrenched the door open.<br/>“WHAT?!”<br/>“Hi”<br/>Okay, so obviously he was still asleep, and probably dreaming. He knows, because he’s had this dream before. Usually, though, he had to be pretty drunk to allow himself to imagine this sort of thing, and he wasn’t that drunk last night, he doesn’t think. He doesn’t do that so often anymore.<br/>He blinks. He blinks again. Alex Manes is still standing there at his door. Vaguely, he thinks it should be raining. In the movies Isobel made him watch these sorts of moments were usually accompanied by rain. Alex should be soaking wet, and then Michael would have an excuse to peel him out of his clothes and usher him into bed. But Alex is completely dry, standing there in simple jeans and a gray hoodie, his face clean of makeup and piercings, his hair short. He still looks good. Still looks like Alex.</p><p><br/>Michael steps aside, dumbly, to allow him to enter the small space of the airstream. He thinks his mouth is moving, but no sound is coming out. And then Alex is standing right there, right next to him, in his space, looking around.</p><p><br/>“I like it”The spell seems to break, momentarily, and he manages to chock out “how”, to which Alex just shrugs in answer, but that isn’t what he meant, no, he shakes his head.<br/>“ho-how long?”<br/>“two days, then I have to report back”<br/>Okay. Two days. Michael can do that. He can.<br/>In the end, he does peel Alex out of his clothes and ushers him into bed.<br/>They sleep. They kiss, and rub against each other, they kiss again. They don’t really talk a lot.<br/>It’s 52 hours. It’s a lifetime. It’s not nearly enough.</p><p><br/>They lay on the bed, wrapped up in each other, in the early morning light when their time is up. Michael cries. He thinks Alex might be crying too. Neither of them says anything about it.</p><p><br/>And then Alex is gone again.<br/>He left behind a t-shirt. Or maybe Michael stole it and hid it. It doesn’t matter. It only matters that he has it. It’s not like he sleeps with it under his pillow every night (he does). He isn’t that pathetic (he is). He just needs it. To hold when he can’t sleep. To take out and look at, when he thinks that maybe he did dream Alex up. Or worse, that he was a mirage, summoned for him by the desert, who knows his heart’s deepest desires, but only ever fulfilled them as a part of some kind of cruel joke he never realized he was the butt of until it was too late.</p><p><br/>………………………………………………………….</p><p> </p><p>Michael was twenty-one, and it was his birthday. It’s a good birthday, too. He could legally drink now. That was important news, and also funny, and so it needed sharing. “Yo Deluca! I can legally drink now!”<br/>“Guerin, don’t tell me that after I’ve been illegally serving you for two years”, Maria Deluca rolled her eyes at him, but he knew she secretly liked him. “Ow, I know you secretly like me, Deluca”<br/>So maybe he was a little drunk, but it was his birthday. So.</p><p><br/>“Yeah well, you’ve caught me. Happy birthday, Guerin. Wait, you share a birthday with the Evens twins? I feel like maybe I knew that at some point, in school or something” Deluca wasn’t really paying that much attention to him, busy pouring beer and stacking up clean glasses behind the bar. Actually, having only a little of her attention was better for scoring free drinks off her, so he slid his empty glass in her direction and smirked when she filled it up and slid it back, all the while continuing chatting with him.</p><p><br/>“I only know about it because Jacki said she wouldn’t be in today, ‘cause apparently the ice princess is throwing some big party at some fashionable wine bar that wouldn’t last till the end of the year” she scoffed. “anyway, why aren’t you there? I thought you were close with the golden twins”.<br/>He was. Or he had been. Can you really be not close to the only people on the plant who were like you? Who shared your secrets? Well, it’s becoming clearer and clearer that you can, actually. Secrets can bring you together, and secrets can tear you apart. He’s always known that. That’s why he keeps everyone’s secrets. Keeps them from himself, even (the trick is to never ever think about them).</p><p><br/>Anyway, hipster wine bars weren’t his thing, and he tells her that, and throws in a wink and a “how could I possibly cheat on the Pony like that?” it seems to please her, and she moves on to deal with other waiting, paying, costumers.</p><p><br/>He did make an appearance at the party, to avoid the terrible scorn of Isobel on a party planning mode, but he couldn’t bear to stay. He hates it when they celebrate with other people. It can never be his birthday too on those occasions. The town seemed to forget the story of three children found together in the desert, or at least nobody ever seemed to connect it to the three of them, and that suited them just fine. No need to raise suspicion by having the same arbitrary birthday. Anyway, Isobel promised they’ll do something on the weekend, just the three of them, if he and Max promised to behave.</p><p>For now, though, he was quite content to drink alone at the Pony, and banter occasionally with Deluca. She seemed to like him more than Max did these days, and he liked her too. He thinks he’d like to sleep with her, or maybe be her friend. Either. Both.<br/>He is a little drunk, so he tells her. “hey Deluca”<br/>“hmm?”<br/>“I kinda like you, you’re cool. Wanna have sex? Or, like, be friends or something?”<br/>She huffs and shakes her head at him, but there’s a smile tugging at the edge of her lips. She doesn’t say no.</p><p><br/>He forgets all about it a few minutes later, when his phone beeps, and he sees a message from an unknown number. His hands shakes a bit when he flips it open. The massage only reads “Happy Birthday – A”. It makes his heart ache and his breath catch in his chest. He pays his tab in full, for once, and drives out into the desert.</p><p><br/>He lays in the bed of his truck, under the stars that he loves, until the sky lightens with the dawn. He imagines they’re playing music for him, his bad hand clenches and unclenches in time to the music of the universe.<br/>(He does end up sleeping with Deluca, and also being her friend. But that’s not until later).</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Michael is twenty-two and he has a plan. He gets a job as a ranch hand at Foster Farm, which grants him full access to search the crash site. He keeps his job at the junkyard, too, and that allows him to take over the old bomb shelter there and turn it into a make-shift lab/workshop/shipyard for whatever he can salvage from the desert. He works hard. He does research. He stays mostly sober.</p><p>Also, having some extra cash is great, especially since, for the first time in years, Alex is going to be around a bit more. He knows that because Alex texted him. The text said “I’m gonna be around a bit more”. God, Michael is pathetic. “I’m gonna be around a bit more” is not a declaration of intent. “I’m gonna be around a bit more” is not a relationship. But it’s cool, it’s cool. Michael is not a stupid teenager anymore. He doesn’t hope, he plans.</p><p>He’s good at planning. </p><p>When Alex shows up, Michael is wearing a clean shirt and a brand-new black cowboy hat. He made sure the minifridge is fully stocked, there is semi-decent wine in the cupboard, and the sheets are freshly washed. Kissing Alex feels like sinking into a warm bed after a long, long day, and laying on top of him, moving inside him for the first time, well, there’s nothing that quite compares. </p><p>Alex can’t stay, and they don’t drink the wine, but it’s fine, ‘cause he’s gonna be around a bit more. Also, this time Michael is pretty sure Alex left his shirt behind on purpose, because one of Michael’s is missing from the very back of his tiny closet, so Alex couldn’t have grabbed it by accident. It’s great.</p><p>Only, by the time Alex comes around again, Michael is on edge. Isobel has been having blackouts again, and he and Max don’t know what to do, so they mostly scream at each other about it. And then Michael goes home and has a beer or two about it, to help him not think about it, since obviously this is exactly the sort of thing he doesn’t think about.</p><p>(He doesn’t think about the Isobel thing, which doesn’t lead him to think about other things that happened the same night, and soon enough he’s definitely not thinking about all those things he doesn’t ever think about until he’s screaming and punching at the desert).</p><p>So, it’s not like he has something on his mind, but he’s on edge, and Alex notices, of course Alex notices.<br/>
“You’re, like, twitchy”, he said casually, leaning against the counter. He really shouldn’t look as graceful as he does in the small space. It’s annoying.<br/>
“What? No, I’m not” Michael can’t really meet his eyes. He fiddles with the fraying hem of his shirt.<br/>
“So… whatcha been up to?” Michael doesn’t know if Alex really wants to know. He probably does, being Alex and all. But Michael can’t really answer him. Shouldn’t. Or maybe just wouldn’t. He shrugs, jesters around uselessly. Alex sighs, kicks off his boots, and jumps on the bed.</p><p>Good. This is good. This Michael can do, maybe he can still salvage the evening. Only, when Alex is lying under him on the bed, slowly, easily, fingering himself, Michael is hit, like a punch to the gut, with the realization that Alex has learned how to do this somewhere else, with someone else. He was too distracted last time they’ve been together, too mesmerized by the look of Alex, so beautiful, the most beautiful man he’s ever seen, sprawled out under him, for him, to comprehend that this type of ease doesn’t come from experimenting alone in the shower. It knocks the air out of him, though he is soon distracted by Alex again, his beauty, his softness and hardness interchanging, giving way to one another, building something new, unique to Alex and Alex alone.</p><p>He forgets, momentarily, but he remembers it later, in the dark, with Alex’s soft breaths against his shoulder. It’s silly, and hypocritical. It’s not like Michael is a monk when Alex’s not around, though he probably isn’t the player the town gossip has made him out to be. He struggles to understand the difference, why this hurts so much. He thinks maybe it’s the vulnerability. Alex was just so open, guard down, completely and utterly at his mercy, and it makes him sick to think of Alex trusting anyone else like that. Or trusting anyone at all like that. Maybe it even makes him sick to think Alex trusts him like that. Doesn’t he know it’s dangerous? Doesn’t he know that people can hurt him?  That Michael can hurt him? Suddenly he can’t breathe. He has to get away. He can’t bear touching Alex, can’t bear Alex touching him. </p><p>He slips out carefully, trying his best not to disturb Alex, but also to avoid touching him as much as possible, and runs out into the desert night. He walks around and lets the desert soothe his soul, until the sky lightens with the sunrise, and then he goes back to the airstream. </p><p>Alex is so beautiful in the early morning light streaming through the windows, Michael can’t bear it. He’s dirty and ugly in comparison, and suddenly extremely, incomprehensibly, angry.</p><p>He doesn’t remember exactly what, but he says something really mean when Alex wakes up, aiming to hurt him. And he does, and Alex storms out, and he feels terribly relieved and also just terrible, and he tells himself he deserves it (and doesn’t think about other things he may or may have not deserve).    </p><p>He doesn’t get a chance to dwell on it, anyway, because Alex’s truck has barely disappeared in a cloud of desert dust when he can feel Isobel’s in trouble, and wow, he really can’t catch a break, but what else is new.</p><p>………………………………………………………………</p><p>Michael is twenty-two, and this is the second time in his life that he has to rash to his sister’s help, only to find her in the middle of killing someone he knows.</p><p>Only this time it’s someone who deserves it.<br/>
This time it’s Noah.<br/>
His sister’s boyfriend, Noah.<br/>
Goofy, dorky, lawyer Noah. Noah who never cared about the weird relationship between Michael and Isobel, who never listened to the town’s gossip, who accepted Michael as family because Isobel said so, Noah.</p><p>Only he’s not dorky, lawyer Noah. He’s alien murderer Noah. He’s the monster who hijacked Isobel's body and mind and tainted her bright, beautiful soul, Noah. It would be hard to believe, but Michael has always known there are monsters walking the earth. He’s met them. He bears the scars of those encounters. (he never thinks about them). This is just the first time the monster isn’t human.</p><p>Michael would kill him for her, he would. Max too. Max has already killed for her, and that, too is connected to this, this awful violation of his sister’s mind (and that was his fault, wasn’t it? He should have never come back to Roswell, he’s bad news, he’s no good for the people he loves, that other monster was right, he should just stay away, he should--)</p><p>But Isobel doesn’t want them to kill him for her. His beautiful, brave, fierce sister. She fights her own battles. </p><p>Max and Michael hold Noah down for Isobel, as she goes into his mind and sets it on fire, that burns and burns and burns until his eyes roll back and he’s gone. When she comes back to it, she tells them two things. The first is that there is no home in the stars to go back to, and nobody that’s coming back for them. Michael would be devastated if he had anything left in him after this night to devastate. The second thing is “no more secrets”.</p><p>Michael turns to Max, and tells him “we made Liz leave, after graduation. We knew you were going to tell her, so we made her leave”.</p><p>Max punches him in the face. Then they all go back to Isobel’s apartment, burn everything in it that reminds her of Noah, drink excessive amounts of acetone, and fall asleep in a pile on the carpet.</p><p>Michael steers awake in the early hours of the morning, just as the dawn begins to paint everything a mute kind of gray. He blinks a few times, and sees Isobel, very still but unmistakably awake too, staring at the ceiling. On her other side, Max is still dead to the world. </p><p>She is the bravest of them, he’s always known that. She said no more secrets. He already gave Max one secret, and she deserves one too. A bigger one. A personal one. A “thing he doesn’t like to think about one”. He has nothing else to give her, nothing else he can offer to elevate her pain. But he can give her this, his brave sister.</p><p>“When we were fifteen..” he starts. He stops. He clears his throat. He can be brave. “When we were fifteen.” He tries again. “It’s not the same, but-“<br/>
She turns her head towards him, her voice is soft, but unwavering “It’s not so different”<br/>
He nods. She smiles at him, quick and fleeting, but still there. “thank you”, she says.</p><p>When Max wakes up, he makes them breakfast. He remembers how Michael likes his eggs. </p><p>Two days later, Alex texts him he’s being deployed. He’s not sure if he’ll be able to come say goodbye. Michael goes out and buys two cases of beer and nine bottles of acetone. </p><p>That evening, Max and Isobel show up at his airstream. They bring the NMU online course catalog. Isobel complains about the quality of the beer but drinks it anyway. Max tries to convince him of the merits of taking an English course as one of his electives, and also drinks his beer.</p><p>Isobel finds him a returning-adult-whatever scholarship and makes him apply. Max does sign him up for an English course, but also works out an entire class schedule focusing on Engineering and Physics study courses that still allow him to keep his jobs.</p><p>They help Isobel move to a new house, and paint it purple (“It’s lilac!!”).<br/>
They cheer loudly at Max’s Sheriff’s Academy graduation and go for celebratory tacos after.<br/>
Alex doesn’t come to say goodbye, but he calls. It goes okay. ish.</p><p>Michael is careful. He knows better than to think that everything’s magically fixed. Isobel still sometimes gets a faraway look in her eyes. Max sometimes still yells instead of talk. He still drinks too much and doesn’t think about too much. They all sit in silence and cry sometimes.  But it’s better, for the first time in a long time, it’s better. </p><p>That’s enough for now.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>kudos and comments and other types of validation help me smile in these days of social isolation!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>sorry for the late update, this chapter really kicked my ass. also, in quarantine, time means nothing. to make up for it, I offer you an extra-long chapter and some key plot development!<br/>next update on Friday or something. maybe. time isn't real anymore.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Michael is twenty-three, and he’s quite proud of himself. He’s flying through his online classes, and might actually be able to finish his bachelor’s degree in two years, if he keeps it up. Max laughs at him and calls him a genius when he drives him to Albuquerque so he can test out of a few requirements when his Physics professor catches on and decides to help him accelerate his course of study. Michael shrugs and says that he taught himself most of the basic staff years ago. Isobel, on speakerphone, laughs too and says he’s not helping his case.</p><p> </p><p>Hearing them laugh is still new and unexpected enough that he has to laugh too. It’s great. Also great is the fact that he gets to spend four whole days in Albuquerque by himself after Max goes back to work. And then spend two more days not by himself, because even greater is the fact that Alex is back from deployment, and he’s gonna meet Michael on the weekend, once he’s done with his exams. Not that he’d told him about the exams, or what exactly brings him to Albuquerque. He plans to, though, when they meet in person. He has a plan. He’s good at plans.</p><p> </p><p>He’s going to apologize for the harsh words he said last time they were together. He’s going to tell him how he’s getting his degree, and how he’s putting his life in order. he’s going to tell Alex how he’s been saving up for a real house, so Alex knows that next year, when his enlistment period is over, he has something good to come back to, that Michael has something good to offer him.</p><p> </p><p>He’s giddy with anticipation and electric with excitement as he flies through his exams. He tidies up his motel room and gets take out from a chinses place he thinks Alex would like.</p><p> </p><p>He doesn’t get wine this time. Somewhat because he wants to show Alex how he’s being better with his drinking, although he’s not sure Alex even knows about his drinking, or about his reputation for drinking, but mostly, if he’s being honest (which is kinda the goal, here), because wine was a part of his previous plan. His failed plan. But, since he’s good at plans, he can learn from past mistakes and make adjustments (sure, maybe the wine wasn’t really the problem, but even though Michael would like to think he’s made a lot of progress, he’s not willing to think about those things, the things he spent years not thinking about, just yet).    </p><p> </p><p>He spends half an hour on his hair, making his curls bounce to their full effect. Then he paces and fidgets for half an hour more, until there’s a knock on the door.</p><p> </p><p>Alex is standing there, illuminated by the last rays of the setting sun. he’s wearing military fatigues, which Michael has never seen him in before, and at first, he thinks that’s what throws him. Because Alex looks, well, not <em>not good</em>, ‘cause Alex always looks good, but, different, somehow. For a second there he doesn’t look like Alex, and Michael flounders a little until Alex smiles that small, hesitant smile of his, and all the tension goes out of Michael in an instant, and he rushes Alex in.  </p><p> </p><p>They make out, and eat the takeout, and make out a little more, and Michael manages to feel Alex up a little over his uniform, to confirm that, yup, those are definitely some new muscles. When they pull apart, Michael psyches himself up to say something, to tell him. He can do it, he can.</p><p>“So, Alex, I wanted to-“</p><p>“Hey, let’s go out”</p><p>“Huh?” Michael is so thrown by the interruption to his carefully prepared speech, it takes him a second to understand the words.  </p><p>“Let’s go out, to a bar, or something”</p><p>“Oh, you want to go out? Sure, let’s, let’s do that” This is good, Michael is happy Alex wants to go out together. That’s what people do in relationships, they go on dates and such. They don’t hide away in toolsheds or in trailers in the middle of the desert.  So of course that now, when they’re in Albuquerque and don’t know anybody, they can go out.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, man, I haven’t been to a decent bar in so long. It won’t be the Pony, but still” Alex smiles, but this time it doesn’t reach his eyes. Instead, they’re hard, flat. Michael thinks again about how he almost didn’t recognize him when he opened the door, only he’s not so sure it’s the uniform anymore. But it’s okay, it is, really. It’s not like Alex doesn’t want to spend time with him, he came, didn’t he? Agreed to stay the whole weekend. So they’ll spend time together in a public space, like normal people. This is what he wanted, wasn’t it? To show Alex they can have a normal life together.</p><p> </p><p>He still watches Alex closely, can’t quite shake the feeling of dread looming over him. It’s been a while. What if they have nothing to talk about? What does he really know about Alex anymore? What does Alex know about him? He’s always liked to imagine that Alex was the only person in the world that truly knew him, everything that mattered anyway. The rest is just details, and he has a plan, he’s going to tell Alex. He never really considered that maybe it’s him that doesn’t know everything he needs to know about Alex. But Alex is changing out of his uniform now, not bothering with fake modesty, and Michael can see how his body has changed. Not just more muscles, but new scars, too. He feels a little adrift again. He used to know all of Alex’s scars, used to kiss them and run his fingers lightly over them in the early morning light. Well, he shakes himself out of that weird, morose, mood. He’ll just have to kiss the new ones too. It’s fine. They have time.  </p><p> </p><p>The bar they find is… fine. Alex was right, it not going to be the Pony. Maybe one day it can be, though. The two of them, sitting at the bar, bothering Maria together. In the meanwhile, they get beers (which is not wine, so obviously the plan is still intact). They don’t hold hands or sit closely or anything, and Michael isn’t really sure if one of them decided not to, or if they’re just too stuck in their Small Town<sup>TM</sup> routine to do anything else. They get more beers.  Alex seems to relax a little, smiling more openly, telling Michael something or other his air force buddies said or did. And then Alex leans in, and whispers in his ear before getting up and walking in the direction of the bathroom. Okay then. Alex has apparently become some kind of an adrenalin junky overseas. That’s cool. Michael drains the rest of his beer and follows a minute later.</p><p> </p><p>They crash into the nearest stool, kissing frantically against to door. It’s so so good, and fun, god, is it fun, it’s been ages since they just had fun, it makes Michael feel young in a way he hasn’t in a long, long time. Maybe ever.</p><p> </p><p>Alex smiles against his lips and Michael breathes out a silly little giggle he doesn’t even feel like denying. Alex, breathless, mumbles into his mouth “Can I fuck you?”</p><p> </p><p>Michael, clearly, has never done that before. Not just with Alex. With anyone. Not because of some macho man toxic gender roles whatchamacallit (what, he listens when Deluca tears into jerks at the bar). But because of, well, because of… something else (some thing he’s not thinking about. A thing he’s definitly not thinking about around Alex. He knows how that’d turn out. He’s not an idiot, he’s just really really good at repressing. He’s had years of practice).</p><p> </p><p>Anyway. He wants everything with Alex. While he’s thinking how to tell him that, Alex takes out his dick, and Michael promptly stops thinking altogether.</p><p>“Yeah, yeah”</p><p>“Yeah?”</p><p>Michael nodes enthusiastically. Alex rummages around a bit in fishes a condom and a pack of lube from his back pocket, while Michael does his very best to get rid of his pesky pants in the small space. Alex, all competence and preparedness and incredible hotness, obviously, juggles them, the condom and the lube around until he’s satisfied with their position, and tears the condom’s aluminum wrapper. The condom immediately falls to the filthy, public bar bathroom, floor.</p><p> </p><p>Alex and Michael both burst out laughing, trying ineffectively to stifle the sound by burying it in each other’s shirts.</p><p>“Well, do you have a condom?”</p><p>“Uh..no” Michael left all of his sex stuff in the motel room. Except for his penis. He did bring his penis. That is a truly ridicules, hilarious thought, so he tells is to Alex. Their laughter is becoming a problem, he hopes nobody else comes in the bathroom.</p><p>“Uhm, I’m, eh, clean. I got a full workup when I came back”</p><p>“Me too. Clean, I mean. I’m clean too”</p><p> </p><p>And it’s true. Mainly because Michael can’t contract human illnesses (he did a lot of pseudo-scientific experiments in the secret lab under his airstream), but also because he hasn’t really been with anyone since before Alex deployed. Maybe it’s sad. Maybe he was pining. Maybe he was just busy with school and his two jobs and his actually talking to his family for the first time in years. You can’t prove anything.</p><p> </p><p>Anyway, Alex is smiling at him and Michael can’t believe he thought he was cold and unfamiliar before. Alex is as familiar as the sun, as warm as the desert. And when Alex pushes inside of him, bare, it’s like all the barriers between them fall, and they are one, MichaelAndAlex, like they should be, and Michael is lost, and everything is AlexAlexAlex as he comes apart in his arms.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The next morning, Michael keeps his promise to himself, and kisses every new and old scar on Alex’s body. Alex blinks awake right when Michael is done showering love on a scar on his shoulder that looks distressingly like it was left behind by a bullet graze.</p><p> </p><p>Alex is so beautiful in the morning light, half asleep and completely open, that Michael doesn’t even need to hype himself into telling him. It just bursts out of him.</p><p> </p><p>“Alex, next year, when you come back home-“ he stops abruptly, Because Alex, sleep warn, unguarded Alex, changes between one breath and another. He’s steel cold again. Michael is suddenly afraid.</p><p>“Guerin. listen. I need to tell you. I’m not coming back next year”</p><p>“To Roswell? That’s, that’s fine. Albuquerque is cool. We’ll have to find a better bar though” Alex is looking at him very intently, and Michael knows that he’s being dense on purpose, that he’s bubbling. It’s fine, it is. Albuquerque isn’t that far from Roswell. He’ll see his siblings on the weekends. He’ll be closer to the university, maybe he’ll sign up to that grad program his professor was talking about. He’ll make it work. He has a plan, dammit.</p><p> </p><p>“No, that’s not, I’m not coming back at all. Look, Guerin, it was a great opportunity. And Roswell, well, that’s not gonna happen. Probably ever”</p><p> </p><p>Roswell is never gonna happen? Or MichaelAndAlex is never gonna happen? Michael’s not stupid. He knows Alex hates Roswell, thinks that there’s nothing there for him. Nothing except Michael. That’s what the whole plan was about. Making Alex see that Michael is enough to come back for. God, he’s such an idiot. Of course Michael’s not enough. He’s never been enough. Not for Ann Evens. Not for any half-way decent foster parents. Not to protect his sister from evil. Not to protect Alex from his father. (Not to protect himself from those things he doesn’t think about. Not now. Please. Not right now). And not for Alex to stay. Never for Alex to stay.</p><p> </p><p>“What are you saying?” His voice is mostly steady, he thinks. Good.</p><p>Alex closes his eyes for a second. But he’s never been a coward, his Alex (not his. Not anymore. Maybe never was), so he looks him straight in the eye when he says “I re-enlisted. Gonna be an officer. I’m actually leaving for training in two weeks, then I’ll probably be sent overseas again”.</p><p> </p><p>“Wow, an officer” Michael drawls. Can Alex see he’s faking it? Can he see how he’s barely holding it together? “Your family must be so proud". Alex recoils. Michael knows it’s a cheap shot, but there’s a hurt inside of him so great, that he’ll be lost in it if he doesn’t let it out. He wipes his eyes furiously. Michael isn’t generally ashamed of crying. Alex has seen him cry before, more than once. But he doesn’t want to cry now, he doesn’t want Alex to see. But Alex isn’t looking at him anymore, and if Michael was less hurt, and less focused on keeping that hurt hidden, he would have seen that Alex was trying to hide his own hurt, which is probably why he said what he says next, which is “Well, maybe not all of us are content to waste our lives drinking slowly to death in a shithole town in the middle of the fucking desert”.</p><p> </p><p>A silence falls on the room. Even Alex looks a little shocked at what he said. Michael no longer feels like crying. Instead, he feels rage.</p><p>“Fuck. You”.</p><p>“Look, Guerin” Alex seems tired, all of a sudden. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that. Can we just enjoy the time we have?”</p><p> </p><p>Michael thinks Alex did mean it. After all, he’s a good-for-nothing, trailer trash, junkyard kid with no name and no family. But he desperately wants to believe him, and he never could deny Alex anything anyway, so he pretends. Just for the day, he pretends. They eat breakfast. They rent the original Star Wars trilogy and marathon it on the shitty motel tv set and eat terrible gas station snacks. They take a nap. They eat some more take out for dinner and fall asleep in their clothes while Princess Leia tells Luke she knows, she’s somehow always known.</p><p> </p><p>In the morning, Alex wears his fatigues again. Michael can’t look him in the eye. They still hold each other a little too long when Alex drops him off at the bus terminal. They don’t say goodbye.</p><p> </p><p>Max picks him up at Roswell's sorry excuse of a central station, and drives him home. Michael’s never thought of Max as particularly observant, but maybe he was wrong, because Max parks outside Michael’s airstream, looks him over, and says, gently “Maybe you shouldn’t go to Albuquerque again anytime soon”. Michael just nods before exiting the truck, heavily climbing the steps to his door, and collapsing into bed immediately.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Six weeks or so later, Michael wakes suddenly from an unplanned midday nap and launches himself at his toilet before emptying the entire meager contents of his stomach into the bowl. He sits there, breathing heavily and being grateful that his toilet his so close to his bed, when he becomes aware of a tiny spot of warmth, quietly pulsing in his stomach. Upon realizing this, he promptly throws up again.</p><p> </p><p>He’s shaking. He cannot seem to think straight. He thinks about the last time he felt like this, and the last time he tried to talk to Alex, tried to tell him. He’s failed, he didn’t tell Alex before, even though he did try, he really did. And he definitly can’t tell him now.</p><p> </p><p>He can’t breathe. He needs air. The airstream seems to mock him. It’s utilitarian and impersonal. It’s not his home. Other then Alex, the closest thing he’s ever had to a home is the desert. So, if he can’t tell Alex, he’ll tell the desert. He drives out to that spot in the desert, the little piece of this earth he’s bought and paid for in his blood. He takes a deep breath.</p><p> </p><p>“I love Alex Manes. I’m in love with him” he tells the desert sky, on the day his life changes. The desert doesn’t answer. It never does. He tries again. “I love Alex Manes, and I’m having his baby. So. There’s that”.</p><p>Above him, the sky opens, and rain starts to fall.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>up next: some actual dialogue; pod squad sibling bonding; Michael has a plan that might, possibly, maybe, has a chance of mostly working; the author discovers the "chapter summary" function and decides to use it!</p>
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    <p>Michael is twenty-three, and he’s having a baby. But that’s okay, because he has a plan. Now, some people may say that his previous plans all seemed to fail. And those people will be… mostly right. But does he let past failures bring him down? No sir. He does not. </p><p>So, the plan. It’s pretty simple. It consists of six simple steps:<br/>
1.	Hide pregnancy.<br/>
2.	Get enough money to fund a proper house. And diapers.<br/>
3.	Create a plausible cover story for where the baby came from.<br/>
4.	Deliver baby safely.<br/>
5.	Protect baby at all costs and never ever let any Manes near it ever.<br/>
6.	Live happily ever after with baby.</p><p>Simple, right? Well, maybe not, but he’s determined. He might have screwed up most everything in his life, but not this. This is too important. The most important thing he’s ever done.</p><p>So, he gets to work. He starts on the first two points by calling his UNM professor. He asks for any and all research assistant jobs he has. He begs to be let into the grad program, even though he’s technically a semester away from finishing his B.A. He looks into grants and future employment prospects.</p><p>His professor is probably some kind of saint, because within a week he sets Michael up with two research assistant jobs, a grant that covers the grad program plus living expenses, official permission to do some of the work remotely, and student housing for the time he does plan to spend in Albuquerque (which so happens to be months four to eight of his pregnancy, wonder how did that happen). Winter clothes and lab coats in Albuquerque, away from people who know him and his rocking abs, is the best he can do, honestly. Other than hiding from the people of Roswell during the critical baby bump period, this will allow him to both save money until the baby is born, thus making it possible to rent a small place on the outskirts of Roswell, and to get a better, more child-friendly job, after the birth.</p><p>For point number three, he goes to the Pony. Honestly, he’s been meaning to drop by there for a while now. He misses Deluca. So he shows up one Friday night, when it’s busiest, shoots some pool with the regulars, and speaks loudly about the great time he’s had in Albuquerque a few weeks ago, and about how he’s heading up there again for some work soon. As expected, someone soon jokes about how he’s probably after a girl, not a job. Michael winks. A rumor is born.<br/>
Sometimes his reputation as a player is helpful.</p><p>Since he really did miss Deluca, and he doesn’t like lying to her more than necessary, he stays until closing time and tells her he’s actually going to school. He thinks she also suspects he’s met somebody there, but she doesn’t press, ‘cause Maria’s cool like that. And, well, it’s not like she’d be entirely wrong if she did. She tells him she’s proud of him. He tells her he’s going to miss her. They hug. It’s nice.</p><p>The fourth point is the first really tricky one. In order to achieve that one, he has to do something he doesn’t really want to do.</p><p>He calls Max.</p><p>While he’s driving over to Max’s, it occurs to him how lucky it is that they’ve mostly repaired their relationship. He’s afraid to even think what he would have done if he couldn’t rely on Max. Probably resort to his usual M.O of bleeding out in the desert, and both he and his baby would have died. Still, it doesn’t mean he’s happy about having to tell Max. But points 4 to 6 of his plan demand it, so it’s happening.</p><p>It doesn’t mean he knows how to tell him, though. Never mind, he’ll just say the first thing that comes to him when he gets there, no need to overthink it. It’ll be fine.</p><p>Max is sitting by his fire pit when he arrives, drinking a beer. Michael waives his offer to get him one too and collapses into a chair by the fire. He wrings his hands. Max quirks an eyebrow at him. Michael blurts out “Have you ever had unprotected sex with a man?”</p><p>Max chocks on his beer, spraying it everywhere. It takes him a minute to collect himself enough to say, very pointedly, “No”.</p><p>Okay, so, it wasn’t fine, and maybe Michael should have planned what he was going to say. Best be very clear and just come out with the important bit. He can still salvage this.</p><p>“So. I’m having a baby. Like, I’m currently pregnant with a baby, because humane and alien anatomies are different, and that’s a thing that can happen”. He breathes out. There. That was better. Max is looking at him, seeming more composed than Michael would have imagined, but maybe he’s wasted all of the shock factor on his first statement.</p><p>“Okay. Does Alex know?”<br/>
Apparently now it’s Michael’s turn to be shocked. “How? What? No, no, why would you think. No!” he flails. Max is still infuriately clam.<br/>
“So you didn’t tell him about the baby, or about being an alien?”<br/>
“No” Michael says softly, “I didn’t tell him anything. How, how did you know? Does Isobel know? Oh god, does anybody else?”</p><p>Max moves to sit next to him, and bumps their shoulders together.<br/>
“No, Is doesn’t know, I don’t think. The end of high school was, well, you know how it was for her, and I only first noticed at prom. I wasn’t sure it was still, or ever, a thing, but when you came back from Albuquerque, I suspected”<br/>
“It just him, you know” Michael says, mostly to Max’s shoulder, not meeting his eyes. “Fucks me up”<br/>
“I know, that’s why I figured the baby was his”<br/>
“Really?” Michael lifts his head, finally looking at Max “how so?”<br/>
“Well, for starters, I don’t think you would have been careless enough to have unprotected sex with anyone else. Hey, you opened with it” he adds at Michael’s indigent mutter. “And mostly” Max’s voice softens “I think you came here because you want to keep this baby, and I don’t think that would have been the case had it not been Alex’s”</p><p>Michael says nothing. Max is right. He doesn’t think Max knows any more then he’s just said (doesn’t think he knows about the things in his past. The things that are not at all relevant and so he doesn’t have to think about).</p><p>Max lets him sit quietly for a few minutes, before asking “Are you going to tell him?”<br/>
“About the baby thing or about the alien thing?”<br/>
“Either. Both”</p><p>Michael shrugs. He’s not too proud to admit (to himself), that Alex broke his heart, a little, in Albuquerque. He’s also not too proud to admit (again, to himself), that if Alex were to walk through the door right now, and stay, he’ll forgive him. He’ll forgive Alex anything. It may be a problem. It’s definitely a weakness. But none of that is new. What’s new is his baby, who’s welfare and happiness need to be considered. Need to come first. He doesn’t know yet what that means for him and Alex. But since Alex’s left, he’s not sure there’s ever gonna be a him and Alex to make him deal with it. Michael shrugs again.</p><p>Max, seeming quite dedicated to being understanding and shit tonight, doesn’t press. Michael would find his entire shtick annoying if he wasn’t so pathetically grateful. </p><p>“Okay. So, how are we doing this?”<br/>
“Well, you’re going to have to deliver the baby, and heal me afterward”<br/>
“Yeah, I figured. How? When? What are you gonna do until then?”<br/>
“With a knife, probably” Max winces “Or maybe we should steal some medical supplies, so you can use a fancy knife-“ “It’s called a scalpel” “Yeah whatever. Do you want me to answer your questions or not?”<br/>
Max nodes forcefully, seeming happy to be moving on from the knife thing.<br/>
“Well, as to the when, I think this pregnancy more or less follows normal human pregnancy schedule, since I started feeling her heartbeat at around six weeks, and I’m now at about 13 weeks, so we’ll prepare for the 40 weeks mark, unless she tells me differently”.<br/>
“She? Heartbeat? Tells you???” Max almost squeaks.<br/>
“Yeah” Michael smiles softly “Here”. He takes Max’s hand and places it on his stomach. “Try to reach out with your mind or something. Can you feel her?”<br/>
“Yes, I can. I can feel her” Max’s voice is reverent. “Michael, oh my god, oh my god, Michael. This is amazing”<br/>
“Yeah, she is”. They smile at each other sappily, and Michael suspects there are tears in his eyes. Ugh. At least he can blame the hormones. What’s Max’s excuse?</p><p>To change the terribly touchy-feely atmosphere before Max wants to hug or touch his stomach again or something equally terrible, Michael tells him all about points one through three of his plan. Max seems to think it’s plausible enough, so that’s good. He’s about to declare the night a success and go home when Max has to ruin it. Of course. Because why would they spend an entire evening without shouting at each other. They may be in a better place then they were a few years ago, but the base of their relationship is still rocky.</p><p>“So have you told Isobel already, or are you going to her next?”<br/>
Uh, now, how’s Michael’s going to put it - “No”. Yup, that pretty much sums it up.<br/>
“What do you mean, no? She’s your sister. You need to tell her”<br/>
“First of all, I don’t need to tell anyone. This is my baby, and I decide what and who to tell. You’re lucky I even told you!”<br/>
“So what, if you didn’t need me for the delivery you weren’t going to say anything? You were just gonna disappear to Albuquerque, come back a few months later, baby in hand, and never say a word?”<br/>
“Yeah, basically”<br/>
“Michael! You can’t do that! We said no more secrets! And besides! Do you really think she’s not going to know something is up? We are psychically linked! She’ll know something’s going on, just like we knew she was having blackouts again last year”<br/>
“Will she now? Tell me, oh Mr. Know-It-All Max, do you always know when something’s up with me? Great, you realized about Alex, ten points to Gryffindor. But do you know why I missed school for a week sophomore year? Do you know what happened to my hand?” careful there, Michael, you’re breaching on dangerous territory of things here, better stir clear “Hell, I was homeless for nearly three years, and you never seemed to notice that” he’s breathing hard by the time he’s done, and his bad hand is shaking. He tucks it behind his back. He doesn’t think Max notices, his voice is very small when he says “You were homeless for three years?”<br/>
“To be fair,” Michael concedes, “I actively worked to hide it from you, and then we didn’t really talk, for, like, two of those years” He shrugs, he’s tired of fighting. Also like, generally tired. Pregnancy is legit wearing him out.<br/>
“I’m still sorry. But I’m here for you now, and Is would want to be there for you too”<br/>
“Yeah, I know, I know” He rubs his face. God. He’s so tired. “I know. We should tell the truth to the people we love”. And isn’t that hypocritical of him. Max is kind enough not to mention it, though, and he’s grateful, again. Ugh. He’ll have to avoid Max now for a few weeks to get over this. And maybe punch him in the face the next time he sees him. This isn’t their dynamic. He won’t allow this to become their dynamic. He refuses.<br/>
“It’s just, she’s been through so much, and we didn’t protect her. I didn’t protect her” </p><p>At least on that topic he and Max have always been in agreement, since their fourteenth birthday. Isobel must be protected, at all costs. Admittedly, they did a terrible job of protecting her, but still, it’s the thing that always brought them together, even when they couldn’t bear each other’s company, the burden of the things they’ve done in the name of protecting their sister too heavy between them.</p><p>Max sighs. “This isn’t protecting her. This is hurting her by keeping secrets. It’s like the last time only worse, because there’s no danger to protect her from, and also because she specifically asked. No more secrets”<br/>
“No more secrets”, Michael echoes his words. “I know. I’ll tell her about the baby. Just, don’t tell her about Alex, okay? That’s, that’s mine”<br/>
“Yeah, brother, I get it” He claps Michael on the back. And maybe he does. “Come on, you’re clearly too tired to drive, I’ll set you up in the guest bedroom”.</p><p>He guides Michael inside, were he thankfully sinks into a soft, if a bit musty, bed, and he doesn’t even remember to grumble about not liking charity.</p><p> </p><p>When he wakes up in the morning, Max has already gone to work. There’s a plate of eggs and bacon keeping warm in the microwave, and a note that says “You have a week, and then I’m calling her and leaving you to deal with the consequences”.</p><p>Well, Michael thinks. That fair.</p><p> </p><p>In the end, it takes him two weeks. Actually, it takes Max two weeks to break under the stress of lying to Isobel, so he calls her out to Michael’s airstream under false pretenses. When they arrive, he hands Michael a “it’s a girl!” balloon, while Isobel just stands there, looking confused. And he does it all with a straight face, too, that little shit. It’s great. Michael will never admit that to his face, but in times like these he’s sure they’re brothers.</p><p>He laughs a little, and Max smiles and askes to say hello to his niece. Michael very quickly steps away from the reach of his hands. “Touching my belly was a one-time thing. Keep your paws to yourself until you have to cut here out”. Max makes a face at that. Then there’s a pointed cough from behind them.</p><p>They slowly turn around. Max nudges Michael lightly with his elbow. Right. It’s his baby. He should say something. “Uhhhh… I’m having a baby? ‘cause that’s a thing I’m physically capable of doing? Oh!” he lifts the pink balloon “It’s a girl!”   Max is suspiciously quiet, but he nods encouragesly.  </p><p>Isobel glares at them. “You!” she points at Max “I’ll deal with you later. And you!” she whirls in Michael’s direction, and he winces a little. Though he thinks he did pretty well, all things considered. Better than he did telling Max, anyway.</p><p>“Why didn’t you tell me?”<br/>
It’s harder to defend his reasoning to Isobel than it was to Max, he really should have expected that.<br/>
“You had more than enough trouble to deal with. I didn’t want to burden you with my… stuff” Yeah, lame. He didn’t even convince himself with that.<br/>
“Firstly, my niece is not “staff”. And secondly”, her voice is gentle, now, “Michael, honey, you don’t have to carry the entire world on your shoulders until it collapses and buries you under. That’s why you have people in your life, to help you lighten the load. We carry our troubles together, and so, nobody’s crushed under the weight. You’re an engineer, you know the importance of support beams”<br/>
“that’s not really-”<br/>
“shush” she pulls him towards her, and Michael grumbles a little, but goes willingly enough, settling his head against the crock of her shoulder. She hums and pets his hair. </p><p>“Let us be your support beams”.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Welcome to the world, baby :)</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>So, this one is a little shorter, since I've decided to have a whole chapter dedicated to the birth! Also, I thought we all deserve one chapter that's (mostly) free of angst. Therefore I've split the planned chapter into two, and you might've noticed the chapter count is up. Hopefully, you'll enjoy this short fluffy one, before I'm back on my angst bullshit next chapter (coming up in a couple of days, probably).<br/>As usual, hope you are all staying safe and sane in quarantine!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Michael is twenty-four, and he’s having a baby. Right now. He’s having a baby right now. Well, as soon as he gets to Max’s.</p><p> </p><p>Isobel and him were just finishing putting together the crib in his new tiny, falling apart, two-bedroom, one-story, absolutely wonderful, completely perfect, house. Well, Michael was putting together the crib. Isobel was mostly commenting on his curtain choice and planning alterations for the décor. Michael had just put down the screwdriver when suddenly, he knew. The noise that escaped him must have been very obvious, because Isobel’s already on the phone to Max by the time Michael could even think to articulate what was going on.</p><p> </p><p>So now they were in the car, and Michael is trying very hard to breathe deeply and not panic. Isobel, while generally wonderful, wise and level headed, is not helping.</p><p> </p><p>“Are those contractions? Are you having contractions? Did your water break? Can your water break? Is this normal? Just breathe, okay? We’ll be there in ten”</p><p> </p><p>Michael does breathe, but not because she tells him. He just wants that to be clear.</p><p> </p><p>“No, Is. I’m not having contractions. My water didn’t break. Also, it doesn’t matter, ‘cause we’re doing a c-section. Max has been preparing for weeks. It’s gonna be fine”.</p><p> </p><p>“I know it’s gonna be fine!<em> I’m</em> telling <em>you</em> it’s gonna be fine! But, like, this can’t be how our people usually give birth, right? I mean, there’s supposed to be a process! Labor!” there’s panic edging her voice, and Michael can feel it spreading, trying to infect him too.</p><p> </p><p>“You don’t know that! Our people could have evolved beyond the barbarity of physiological birth generations ago! And even if they didn’t, I don’t know how to do this! Do you know how to do this? No! So let’s just… calm down. Nothing is happening. She’s just ready to come out. It’s fine”</p><p> </p><p>Isobel’s nodding, seeming to pull herself together. Michael leans his head back on the headrest and closes his eyes. He thinks, not for the first time, about calling Alex. He never does. He doesn’t know how to tell someone on the other side of the country “I know you’re a gay man, who’s only ever had sex with other men, and so you probably never considered the possibility of accidentally fathering a child. But, surprise! You did! Because I’m an alien and have been lying to you for years. Anyway, how’s officers’ training going?”. So, yeah. He figures it’s more of a “face to face” conversation.</p><p> </p><p>Also, he tries to reason with himself, they don’t really work like that, calling each other up out of the blue. Even before Albuquerque, which was, admittedly, not great (other than, you know, producing his baby, which he’s kinda-very-extremely happy about), they didn’t call, or even text, regularly. In the past nine months, Michael’s gotten exactly three texts from Alex, which is pretty normal for them. So he doesn’t call, and Alex doesn’t call, and every day that passes makes it harder to even consider calling. He’s not proud of it, but he’s living with it. Plus, he has so much to worry about already. It’s fine. It’s going to be fine.</p><p> </p><p>(Except it’s not really fine. Except sometimes when it’s late, and he’s lying awake at night, when his miracle, wonderful, very much loved, unborn baby, is kicking him, or pressing directly on his bladder while simultaneously somehow giving him heartburn, and he slips up, and think about how it could have been, if things were different. If he was braver. If they didn’t have the history they have. If Alex was there, in bed, next to him. But Michael has always been an expert in not thinking about things he can’t have, so he doesn’t think about it. Unless it’s late, and he’s lying awake, and he slips up).   </p><p> </p><p>The birth itself… the less talked about the birth itself, the better. Well, Michael was knocked out for most of it by a precalculated combination of acetone and Isobel’s mind-bending powers. When he wakes up, the bad part is over. Isobel’s even cleaned most of the blood up already. (And Michael is privately extremely grateful for that. Not seeing the blood. It helps him stay in the present, and not think about other things. Other blood. Another baby).</p><p> </p><p>Anyway, he doesn’t see the blood, but, when Max is finally done staring at thin air from where he’s slumped against the wall, he looks at the two of them, and very calmly says “let’s never, ever, ever, talk about this ever again”, and Michael agrees readily. (it’s better, to not talk about these things. To not think about them. He knows). And then he looks down, and.</p><p>Oh.</p><p>
  <em>Oh. </em>
</p><p><em>There she is</em>.</p><p>Oh. She’s beautiful. She’s perfect. She’s the best thing he’s ever laid eyes on. (She looks like Alex).</p><p>His baby. His daughter. Right there in his arms. </p><p>He thinks he might be crying. Her little face scrunches, and suddenly, she’s crying. Okay, now he’s definitely crying. Look at her, oh god. Just look at her. Out of the corner of his eye, he thinks he sees Max and Isobel in the corner, also crying. It barely registers. It’s like his whole world has narrowed down to a single point, and that point is a wailing, red-faced, perfection.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Eventually, they do move, and Michael gets up, and they figure out onesies and bottles and formula. The baby seems satisfied with the offerings, which is a big relief for all of them. Michael himself seems to feel just fine. A little weird, maybe, but perfectly healthy otherwise, which is a big relief for Max, that worrywart. Michael does grumble a bit, but agrees to stay the night in the guest bedroom, on the condition that Max changes the sheets, and surrender every pillow in the house to create a barrier around the bed (“I don’t think she can actually move yet” “Did I ask you what you think? No. Did I just give birth? Yes. Do as I say”). Once they’re settled, Isobel announces she’s off to the hospital to mind-whammy the maternity ward registration-nurse-person into faking a legitimate birth certificate and social security number and the works. “So, I need to know her name”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah!” Max perks up from where he’s drooping in an armchair “What’s her name?”</p><p>“it’s Halley” Michael smiles softly.</p><p>“Halley? Like the comet?”</p><p>“Yup”</p><p>“Oh my god. You giant nerd. I love it”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“Welcome to the world, Halley Guerin” </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Tell me in the comments what do you think Alex's three texts were!<br/>(and also anything else you think about this chapter! I thrive on your comments!)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Angst, friendship, more angst, even more angst, and then some pod squad family feels.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hi guys.<br/>So, rough week for the fandom, huh? full disclosure, I haven't watched any of season 2 actually. But, obviously, I've seen what's going on on Tumblr and such. I'll just remind y'all that this fic is season 1 only, cosmic love, Malex endgame. Please join me in renouncing canon and hopefully you'll enjoy this week's extra-long (extra-angsty) chapter. I should say, there will be some more angst before our boys can get their happy ending, so please take care if it's too much right now. <br/>As always, hope you are safe and well, see you in the comments.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Michael is twenty-four, and he knows that’s too young (or too old), to be asleep at 8 pm. Well, it doesn’t really matter, since he’s no longer asleep, because there’s an insistent knocking on his door that woke him up. He’s angry about that for a second, and considers just ignoring the door until whoever it is will go away and let him sleep. God, just let him sleep. But then he jolts up and rushes to the door when he remembers why he’s been asleep at 8 pm, which is because that’s when the baby finally stopped crying, and went to sleep. And if the knocking woke him, it might also wake her, and then Michael will have to commit murder, which will be very inconvenient, since he’s really made a point to avoid any farther murders in his life.</p><p> </p><p>He trips over his feet, and levitates a lone slipper out of the way to avoid tripping on it too, and finally wrenches the door open, vehemently shushing whoever’s outside.</p><p> </p><p>“Michael”. Isobel does not look impressed. “What are you doing? Where have you been? I’ve been calling!” She pushes by him into the house, and Max follows her, smiling apologetically at Michael and mouthing “Sorry”. Good. He should apologize. But also, apology not accepted. He was asleep, god damn it!</p><p> </p><p>“I was asleep!” he shouts-whispers. “Also, if either of you wakes up the baby, I will disown you. I am deathly serious. Do not test me”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh calm down. We’re not gonna wake the baby. Right, Max?” Isobel and Michael both turn to stare daggers into Max, who has definitely been inching towards Halley’s room. He freezes, and offers another apologetic smile. So help him god, Michael will commit Fratricide. He won’t even be sorry. Much.</p><p> </p><p>“Why are you here?”</p><p>“You didn’t show up at dinner! We were worried” Max says, too loudly. At least he has the decency to wince at his own volume.  </p><p> </p><p>“What dinner? Also, you could’ve just called. No need to drive across town”</p><p>“Sunday dinner. You said you’ll come. Remember? When you told us to stop dropping by every day?  We agreed to leave you alone all week if you checked in every once in a while, and show up for dinner. Which you didn’t do. You also haven’t been answering your phone”</p><p>“Yeah, Michael. This isn’t us overreacting. We had a legitimate reason to worry. Have you even been outside the house this week?” Isobel’s looking even more concerned now. Oops.</p><p> </p><p>Okay, so, Michael has probably forgotten about Sunday dinner. Or about it being Sunday. He’s also pretty sure he’s turned off his phone a few days ago, after the ringing woke Halley up that one time. And he’s definitely not been outside. Why would he go outside? Deliveries exist. He works from home. And mostly, if he’s being honest, he doesn’t want to go outside. He just wants to curl up in bed with his baby, and be left alone.</p><p> </p><p>But, alas, his meddling siblings will not let him be. They insist he leaves the house by playing on his parental insecurities, those monsters.</p><p> </p><p>“It’ll be good for Halley! She needs to be out in the sun!”</p><p>“She’s too young!”</p><p>“She’s almost two months old. She can go to the supermarket. She can definitely go to the park. Children go to the park all the time. Take your daughter to the park”</p><p>“Ugh, fine. Maybe for a bit”</p><p> </p><p>He doesn’t tell them he’s scared. He’s not ready for other people to find out about Halley. He’s not ready for Halley to find out about other people. Other people can be mean. They can be hurtful. They can be monsters. And Michael has never in his life been able to protect anyone from the monsters of the world (not even himself). And now it’s his actual job. He’s her father. He doesn’t know what he’ll do if he fails to protect her. He’s never been more scared in his life.</p><p> </p><p>But he also knows he can’t keep her inside forever. That’s not protecting her. That’s just teaching her fear. So he relents.</p><p> </p><p>He takes Halley to the park, and to the supermarket. Then, they go to the park with Isobel, and he lets her take Halley for a stroll, while he watches from the bench. Eventually, Max convinces him that he should take some time to himself too, and so, “Daddy’s time out” was created (don’t ask him about the name. it’s terrible, he knows). Once a week, usually in the evening, Max or Isobel, or both, will babysit Halley, and Michael will go out by himself, and supposedly have fun.</p><p> </p><p>He doesn’t really know what to do. The first time, he just walks around for an hour. The second time, he goes grocery shopping. Unfortunately, Isobel says grocery shopping doesn’t count, and makes him go out again the next night. He goes to the Crashdown and gets a milkshake. Arturo Ortecho is there, and tries to engage him in small talk, which he was not prepared for. He ends up showing Mr. Ortecho photos of Halley on his phone. He really has a lot of photos of her, considering she’s barely three months old. Mr. Ortecho, being an intelligent man of impeccable taste, immediately crown Halley as the most adorable baby he’s ever seen, and urges Michael to bring her around. He also gives him a serving of fries, on the house, so all in all, it’s a good outing.</p><p> </p><p>Feeling encouraged, he heads to the Pony the next week. He makes sure to get there early, before opening. He does not expect to find formidable, badass, Maria Deluca, crying at the bar. He sits down silently next to her, and holds her until her sobs subside. Then she sits up, wipes her face, and looks him once over.</p><p> </p><p>“So, look who showed up, right when I needed a shoulder to cry on. How’s Albuquerque?”</p><p>“Albuquerque… didn’t work out for me”</p><p>“I’m sorry”</p><p>“Me too” And he is. Not to be back at Roswell, and never about Halley. But he’s sorry about other things that happen in Albuquerque.</p><p> </p><p>“My mom is sick. She’s losing her memories. It’s hard, some days”</p><p>“Oh man. I’m sorry, that sounds rough”</p><p>“It is”</p><p> </p><p>They sit silently for a bit. Michael doesn’t like it. Maria Deluca is not a silent woman. Well, he’ll just have to do something about that, and these days, he only has one trick up his sleeve.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, wanna see the one good thing to come out of Albuquerque? Well, other than my B.A and my grad program and my new job?”</p><p>“So, like, the best thing to come out of Albuquerque?”</p><p>“Oh yeah. Most definitely the best thing to come out of Albuquerque. Actually, the very best thing ever to come out of this earth, forget Albuquerque”</p><p>“Well, now you have my attention”</p><p> </p><p>Michael pulls out his phone. He deliberates for a minute, and then chooses the best picture to show her. It’s one from last week, Halley’s fresh from the shower, bundled up in one of those baby towels with a painted duck hoodie. She’s smiling, bright and toothless. She’s been doing that a lot, in the past couple of weeks. It takes Michael’s breath away, every time.</p><p>Maria gasps “You didn’t!”</p><p>“I did” Michael grins like a fool. He did. He made her, that perfect creature.</p><p>“Congratulations, Michael. Who could have believed that this beautiful baby could come from you” she winks at him, and they both laugh. And just like that, it’s easy between then again.</p><p>“Show me more!”</p><p>“Okay, so this photo got me free fries at the Crashdown last week”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The next week, he drops by again. While they chat, he notices that the faucet behind the bar is leaking. So a few days later, he packs up Halley and his toolbox, and gets to fixing it while Maria coos over Halley in her stroller. He comes back on his next night out, during business hours, this time, and carefully sips his first beer in nearly a year on his old regular seat by the bar. </p><p> </p><p>And life seems good, like he’s finally getting the hang of it, and it only took him seventeen years on this earth to get there.</p><p> </p><p>So obviously, he’s caught completely unprepared two weeks later, when he’s sitting at the bar, and Alex Manes walks right up, and places himself two seats down from Michael.</p><p> </p><p>Michael forgets how to breathe. Also, he might be having a heart attack. He briefly considers falling to the floor and maybe dying on the spot, but he’s a father now, and if he dies, there’s no one to stop Max from turning Halley into a Russian literature buff or something. And also, he’s spent countless nights dreaming about what he’s gonna do when he sees Alex again. Oh, right. Alex. Alex, right here, right next to him, Alex.</p><p> </p><p>“Alex” he breaths softly, reaching out his hand to touch Alex’s, to make sure he’s really here, that he’s not dreaming. Why did Alex sit so far away, Michael has to lean a bit in order to reach him. It doesn’t matter, because he does reach him, and Alex is real. He’s so, so real. Michael might cry.</p><p> </p><p>“Alex. I… I have to talk to you. <em>Alex</em>”</p><p> </p><p>“Guerin” Alex doesn’t sound happy to see him. He sounds… reserved? Worried? Alex’s eyes fly to the door, and back to where Michael is touching his hand. He flinches. Michael looks around for what Alex was seeing to make him react like that. He immediately sees it. Right by the door. A Manes. He snatches his hand back, and unconsciously tucks the other one, the bad one, against his side, out of view.</p><p> </p><p>He’s not sure which Manes it is, he could never tell Alex’s brothers apart. As far as he’s concerned, they’re all rotten. At least it’s not Jesse Manes. Jesse Manes never comes here. The Pony has always been safe from his taint. Michael understands Alex’s tone now. Scared. He sounded scared.</p><p> </p><p>“Alex” he starts again “Let’s get out of here. I have to talk to you. It’s important. We can go to the junkyard”. He still has the airstream there, for his research. They can’t go to the house, not before they talk. Halley is there. Max’s babysitting tonight. Michael can text him. He’ll understand.</p><p> </p><p>“Guerin, I thought you were in Albuquerque” Alex sounds distant, now. It doesn’t seem as if he’s heard a single word Michael has said. Obviously, he hadn’t planned on running into Michael anymore then Michael was ready to see him tonight. And he’s been keeping track of Michael, which is flattering although unsurprising. And apparently, he hasn’t been updated on Michael’s return to Roswell, plus one. Which is good.</p><p> </p><p>“Alex” and Michael’s begging now “We need to talk. It’s important. Please”</p><p>“Guerin” Alex sounds pained now, and dread is spreading through Michael like a forest fire. “I can’t. I have to go. Family dinner. I just stopped by to say hey to Maria. Flint’s waiting. You were supposed to be in Albuquerque”</p><p> </p><p>Family dinner? As in dinner with Alex’s dad? No. no. Michael thinks he might throw up just thinking about it. His bad hand throbs.</p><p> </p><p>“Alex. Please. Please” he’s getting desperate “I’ll be at the junkyard. All night. Tomorrow too. Come whenever. Just come. It’s important. I’ll wait”</p><p> </p><p>“Guerin. <em>Michael</em>. You should go back to Albuquerque” Alex’s eyes are so, so sad when he looks at Michael. And then he pushes back from the bar, and he’s gone.</p><p> </p><p>Michael stares down at the beaten-up wood of the bar to avoid staring after him. He tries to breathe. He doesn’t remember it being this hard. Eventually, though, he manages to stand up from the bar, and make his way to his truck.</p><p>He sits behind the wheel for a moment, just breathing. He can do it. He can. Finally he gets the chance to set things right. He checks the shared calendar Isobel made them get when they started the babysitting schedule. He’ll never tell her, but it’s actually pretty handy. Today’s Friday, and this weekend is Max’s weekend off. This is good. This could work. He texts Max, ‘cause he doesn’t think he can bear talking to him, or anyone, right now. He needs to keep it together. <em>Can you keep Halley tonight &amp; tomorrow? A is in town, gotta talk.</em> Max replies quickly, with a laconic<em> of course</em>. Good. So that’s taken care of. Halley will be fine with Max for a day, he’s good with her.</p><p> </p><p>Michael drives to the junkyard, settles in in the chair by the fire pit, and proceeds to spend the rest of the night slowly but surely losing his mind.</p><p> </p><p>By 10 PM, he’s texted Alex twice. By midnight, he’s broken the established line of communication, and called him. By dawn, he’s lost count of how many times he’s called and texted. By the point Max shows up, some time in the late afternoon, he’s worked himself into a full-blown panic. Something must have happened. He should never have let Alex go to his dad’s house. He should have protected him. He can’t breathe right. His eyes are bleary. Is he crying? He’s not sure.</p><p> </p><p>Max misunderstands. “I’m sorry he didn’t come”</p><p>“No. No. Something horrible happened. Alex would’ve come. He would’ve come” Oh god. Oh god. He has to go. He has to find Alex. His hand is burning where he’s holding it tight against his chest. What if Flint saw them together at the Pony and reported back to Jesse? And he decided to finish the job from years ago? He doubles over. His hand is on fire. He might be sobbing.</p><p>Max is on him in a second. “Show me! Is it your hand? Let me heal it! Michael, please” And now there’s a tone of panic to Max’s voice “Tell what’s wrong”</p><p>Michael grits his teeth. “My hand…” Max reaches towards it, but Michael shakes his head. “Alex’s dad… his dad. He went to see him last night. He could be hurt. He’s hurt us before…”</p><p>Max looks horrified. “He did that to you? Sargent Manes? He’s the one who hurt your hand?”</p><p> </p><p>Michael nods, he lets go of his bad hand to wipe the tears furiously out of his eyes. “He caught us together before graduation. Came after Alex with a hammer. I tried to help. He doesn’t care, he’ll hurt anybody who gets in his way. He’s hurt Alex before, he could hurt him again” his breathing is getting erratic again. He tries to pull himself together. It’s okay. He’s Okay. And Alex has to be okay, or he’ll know. He always knows if his family is not okay.</p><p> </p><p>Halley’s Okay. He can feel her warm, bright presence in the back of his head, like he always could, since before she was even born. If he concentrates a bit, he can almost see her. Right now, he’s pretty sure Isobel’s feeding her. So, Halley’s safe. Isobel’s safe. Max, right there beside him, is also safe. Only Alex’s missing. He can’t see him, so he could be wrong. Maybe Alex’s not safe. Michael has to find him. He gets up. Max seems to understand, without words. Even though all of their years apart and estranged, and despite Is’s mind-reading-spiked intuition, he’s always suspected Max’s the one who understood him best. Maybe it’s because he has his own Alex. They never talk about it. He thinks if they ever will it might break them both.</p><p> </p><p>“You should go. Find him, if you can. We’ll be at Is’s when you’re done”.</p><p>Michael nods, and starts walking in the direction of his truck.</p><p>“Michael” Max calls out again, but seems to hesitate when Michael stops and looks at him.</p><p>“Just, if you don’t find what you’re looking for. Could you. I mean” He swallows. “Please stop letting him hurt you”.</p><p> </p><p>Michael looks at him intently.</p><p>“If I could have stopped, I would have. But it’s been years. I don’t think I ever will”</p><p> </p><p>Max nods. He understands, like Michael knew he would. It’s been years, and he couldn’t stop loving Liz any more than Michael could’ve stopped loving Alex.</p><p> </p><p>Maybe it’s in their blood. Maybe their species only fall in love once. Maybe they’re doomed. Michael doesn’t care. He needs to find Alex. He gets in his truck, and drives.</p><p> </p><p>At first, he’s not sure where to look. He doesn’t dare go anywhere near the Manes house. In the end, he decides to go to the Pony. That’s where Alex was last night, and he probably never got the chance to say hi to Deluca as he wanted. Maybe she’s heard from him.</p><p> </p><p>He’s not sure how, but he manages to keep it together when he walks in, just before opening. He sits down, and waits for Deluca to emerge from the back of the bar. In the meanwhile, he distracts himself from his spiraling panic by snooping around. The faucet is leaking again, he’ll have to see to that. Maria’s rearranged some bottles on the whiskey shelf, to make room for a new brand he’ll try next time he’s here. There’s a sticky note on the register with a phone number scrawled on it.</p><p> </p><p>“Yo Deluca, you picking up guys now? And you didn’t tell me? I’m hurt, truly” The fake drawl in his voice is quite convincing, if he does say so himself.</p><p> </p><p>“What?” Maria sticks her head out of the back office. Michael gestures at the post-it. “Oh, that. No, that’s just Alex’s new number. You know Alex? Alex Manes? He was in your year in high school. Well, he’s in the air force now, and apparently he had to change his number for some reason. Anyway, he’s been one of my best friend, since, like, ever. don’t know if you knew that” Michael did, in fact, know that. That’s why he’s here right now. And possibly why he likes Maria so much. They both love Alex Manes, and that makes them similar, even if she doesn’t know it. He doesn’t say anything, but it’s okay, since Maria’s still talking “He dropped by earlier, on his way out of town. Gave me his new number so we could keep in touch”.</p><p> </p><p>Michael feels numb. This is a lot of information to process. Alex left town. He made time to see Maria. He gave her his new number. He was unhurt, or Maria wouldn’t have been so nonchalant about it. Or, at least he seemed unhurt. Michael is well aware of how badly you can hurt someone without anyone noticing. Especially someone as accustomed to hurting people as Jesse Manes. Especially when the person he’s hurting is as accustomed to hiding his pain as Alex is. He didn’t come to see Michael. He didn’t text Michael or return his calls. He didn’t give Michael his new number.</p><p> </p><p>He’s not sure what he says to Maria, or how he manages to get to Isobel’s. One moment he’s at the Pony, and the next he’s crying and shaking uncontrollably in Isobel’s living room. Max finally manages to put him to bed, but before he falls to much-needed sleep, he is sure of a few things. One, Alex left, again. He changed his phone number. He didn’t talk to Michael, and doesn’t want Michael to contact him. He’s probably not coming back. Two, Michael’s not an idiot. He knows Alex, war and Albuquerque notwithstanding. This has something to do with Alex going to family dinner with his monster of a father. Which mean, three, Alex thinks it’s not safe for him to be around Michael. (It doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. It does. It hurts a lot. Alex leaving always does. Always will).            </p><p> </p><p>Michael wouldn’t care if it was just him. If it was just him, he’d like to think he’d chase Alex to the edge of this earth.</p><p> </p><p>(He never did before, though, did he? He stayed here, in the last place he saw Alex, and hoped Alex would come back. He just needed to stay put, so Alex will know where to find him. And he did. Every once in a while. He did).</p><p> </p><p>Alex’s trying to protect Michael, like Michael’s always tried to protect Alex. Both failing.</p><p> </p><p>(He should’ve told him. He doesn’t like thinking about it, but he should’ve told him. It wasn’t his fault. It was never his fault. It was Michael who’s failed, that night in the shed. Not Alex. Never Alex. but he didn’t tell him. Maybe if he had, Alex wouldn’t be running away now, trying to protect him).</p><p> </p><p>But it doesn’t matter anymore, because it’s not just Michael.</p><p> </p><p>Because here’s what Michael’s known for years now. Jesse Manes will hurt anybody that doesn’t fit his narrow view of what’s right. He’ll hurt children. Children of his own blood, even. He’d definitely hurt anyone not from this earth, even without the air force’s alien-hunting mandate. And Michael’s reminded of his plan, suddenly. Specifically, step five of his plan. Never ever let any Manes near Halley ever.</p><p> </p><p>He’s never really considered Alex a Manes. He’s someone who needs to be protected from the rest of the Manes-s. Something Michael has failed to do in the past. And Alex would never put Halley in danger, he’s trying to protect Michael even now. And aren’t they ridiculous? Both of them, running around, trying to protect each other. Only managing to make each other miserable, and not even stopping the hurt. Michael’s hand is still ruined. Alex still went to war. Jesse Manes is still at large, still a monster. Still a threat. Only this time, he’s a threat to something infinitely more important than Michael, and even, Michael is not ashamed to admit, more important than Alex. He’s a threat to Halley.</p><p> </p><p>So maybe Alex was right, this time, to leave. Maybe this is the only way to protect Halley (Maybe Alex’s sacrificing himself for the daughter he doesn’t even know he has. And isn’t that just what Alex would do, that jerk. Or maybe Michael’s spiraling. He’s not really making any sense, is he? God, he’s tired). Well, if Alex can do it, so can Michael. He’s known, ever since the very first time he’s felt Halley’s warmth inside of him, there is nothing he wouldn’t do to protect her, nothing he wouldn’t give up. If this is the way it has to be, so be it. Maybe one day things will be different. Maybe one day, Alex will come back.</p><p> </p><p>Until then, Michael closes his eyes, and lets go.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>………………………………………………………………</p><p> </p><p>When Michael wakes up, it’s dark in the room. He’s not sure what woke him, since he’s still extremely tired, for some reason. He reaches out with his mind a bit, and nope, Halley’s still asleep. So that can’t be it. Also, he’s suddenly aware he’s not in his own bed. But before he can dwell on that, he realizes what woke him. There are voices outside his room. He would get up to tell Isobel to be quiet, so she doesn’t wake up Halley, but then there’s another voice, and this one’s definitely Isobel’s, which can only mean the first voice belongs to-</p><p> </p><p>Oh god. Oh no. He cannot deal with this today (he’s not ready to think about why he’s not up to dealing with things today. But he’s not. If he was, he wouldn’t be in Isobel’s spare bedroom, would he? Ha. Take that, logic).</p><p> </p><p>“Whose baby is that?”  Asks Ann Evens, in a tone that states clearly that there is no answer in this universe that she’ll deem acceptable.</p><p> </p><p>“That’s Halley, Michael’s daughter. Remember? I told you I was babysitting, and that we’ll have to push brunch. Also, please be quiet. If she’ll wake up, Michael’ll wake up, and he really needs to sleep”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh? He’s here too?  So now you’re playing house with that riff-raff and his love child? Is this how you’re spending your time when you cancel our plans?” Michael can feel the scorn from two rooms away. If he could move his limbs, he’ll get up, take Halley, and go. She shouldn’t be subjected to Ann Evens. Neither of them should be subjected to Ann Evens.</p><p> </p><p>“Mom! C’mon, that’s really mean. Michael’s a good person, and a good father, and it’s not his fault things didn’t work out for him with someone he loved enough to have a child with” Isobel sounds terse, and Michael’s a little touched. But mostly, he’s tired. He knows what’s being said about him and Halley in town. Usually he doesn’t care, they can say whatever they want, as long as nobody finds out the truth.</p><p> </p><p>There’s a sound of a door opening, and Max’s distinct “sleeping baby in the house” shout-whisper declaring he’s brought coffee and Crashdown breakfast.</p><p> </p><p>“Honestly, Max, you cannot support this”</p><p>“This what, mom?”</p><p>“Your sister playing house with someone else’s child. Isobel, honey, if you’re lonely, this is not the answer. There are plenty of nice boys out there just waiting for you to give them the time of day. What ever happened to that nice Noah, hmm?”</p><p> </p><p>There’s a sharp breath (probably Isobel’s), and a thud (probably Max dropping the takeout bags). And now Michael wouldn’t go out there even if he could. He’s always done his best to live his life Ann Evens Free, and he’s not gonna stop now.</p><p> </p><p>“That nice Noah? That nice Noah?” Isobel screeches, and yup, a blow-up is imminent. Michael is kinda proud. And also glad to not be in the room for the fall out.</p><p>“Noah was a cheating, gaslighting, insane bastard, and Michael punched him in the face for me”</p><p>“Isobel, maybe…” Max tries to intervene. Ha ha. That fool. He won’t know what hit him.</p><p>“WHAT?”</p><p>“Nothing, nothing” Max’s clearly realized his mistake. “Just wanted to say that I punched him in the face too”. He did. Good times. Except for all the murder and violation and heartbreak of their sister and all.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, you did. But this isn’t about you. This is about Michael”</p><p>“Isobel, honey, I’m sorry Noah turned out to be a bad guy, but that doesn’t mean you need to throw your life away on this person. I’m sure Michael is very nice, exciting even, but he’s living in your house? This place is full of toys! Don’t you think it’s a bit much?”</p><p>“Please, mom, just… Michael has his own house, Isobel and I just babysit a lot” Max is clearly flustered. He doesn’t know how to explain, and he’s usually the wordy one. “Is…”</p><p> </p><p>The atmosphere changes then, and Michael can almost feel, at the edge of his mind, the silent conversation between Max and Isobel. Freaking twins. He can also feel the moment Isobel snaps, and the moment Max decides to just follow her lead, and let the chips fall where they may. It feels distantly familiar, like an old lullaby you could barely remember. This is how things used to be, before the blackouts and Noah. Before they had to step up and protect her. When Isobel was their fearless leader, and they just tried their best to keep up.</p><p> </p><p>“Look, mom. I’m not dating Michael or whatever creepy gossip the bridge club’s spreading. I’m helping him, me and Max both. He’s always been here for me, when I was lost after graduation, after Noah. And we’ve never been there for him, not when he was being beaten up in his foster homes-“</p><p>“- Not when he’s hand got busted up-“</p><p>“- Not when he’s lost his scholarship-“</p><p>“- Not when he was homeless for years-“</p><p>“- Not when, wait, what? When he was <em>homeless</em> <em>for years</em>?”</p><p>“Not the point right now, Isobel”</p><p>“Right, right” But they will talk about this later, he’s sure.</p><p> </p><p>“Isobel, Max, I don’t understand” And she clearly doesn’t. Ann Evens sounds… lost. He never thought he’d live to see the day. Or hear the day. Behind a closed door. When everyone thinks he’s asleep.</p><p> </p><p>“Look, mom” Max sighs. “We never wanted to make you feel bad, we’re so grateful for everything you and dad did for us, please don’t doubt that”</p><p> </p><p>“Michael’s our little brother” Isobel might be crying a bit. Michael might be crying himself. “He’s our little brother, and we’ve lost him in the system, and he never got adopted, and he never had anything, and we didn’t help. We didn’t help him, even though he always tried to help us”</p><p> </p><p>“But now we are” Max’s voice is full of conviction. “He’s our brother, and Halley’s our niece, and we’re a family”</p><p> </p><p>And Michael can’t hear them anymore. He’s crying too hard, and trying to stifle the noise in his pillow, so they wouldn’t hear him, wouldn’t know he’s heard them. They’re a family. Now and forever. Even if he never gets to have a family with Alex, Halley and he will be okay. Even if it means he has to put up with Ann Evens every once in a while.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>When Thanksgiving rolls around, Michael doesn’t even try to argue about coming to the Evens Holiday Dinner, hosted by Isobel. Ann Evens is perfectly civil. She comments on how beautiful Halley’s getting (she is, even if Michael tells her daily that beauty is not the merit by which women should be judged, but she’ll have no problem ‘cause she’s both beautiful <em>and</em> smart), and hands her a plush rabbit. Michael nods at her. A truce is called.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>He and Halley enjoy a holiday with their family.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Maria Deluca learns some truths, Michael tells a bedtime story.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey guys, sorry for the late update. This chapter was really giving me trouble, perhaps because it was so important to me. Also, there was supposed to be another segment, but you'll just have to wait until the next chapter for that, I guess.<br/>Fun fact! this all fic started out from the idea of this bedtime story. So I really hope you like it!<br/>See you all in the comments!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Michael is twenty-five, and he’s trying his best. He is. But this, it suddenly occurs to him, might have been a mistake.</p><p> </p><p>“This was a mistake. We can’t do this anymore” Maria doesn’t really meet his eyes, focusing on getting dressed on the other side of the bed. Michael is… well, he can’t say he’s surprised. He is a little sad, though, in a resigned sort of way. He’s never thought this would last. (Nothing ever lasts).</p><p> </p><p>“Wait, Deluca-“ He’s not gonna argue, but he can’t just… let her walk out of his life. He doesn’t have many people, and becoming Maria’s friend was unexpected, but very welcome. He can’t afford to lose her.</p><p> </p><p>She turns and looks at him now. Maria Deluca has never been a coward.</p><p> </p><p>“I am sorry, Michael. But <em>I </em>can’t do this. You’re obviously in love with someone else. The kind of love that doesn’t go away. And I can’t just be a filler in your life while you wait for Halley’s mom to come back” She looks determined, back straight “Whoever she is, I hope she’s worth your love, I really do. I hope she comes back and it’s everything you’ve ever wanted. But I’m no-one’s second choice. I deserve to have that kind of love too. The true kind of love”</p><p> </p><p>And Michael is, as always, struck by Maria’s incredible insight. He really should stop being surprised by it. He doesn’t think he ever will.</p><p> </p><p>“I just-“ He swallows thickly “I just wanted to be happy”.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh honey” She reaches out and takes his hand “I know. But I can’t be that for you. It’s not fair. I deserve better than that”.</p><p> </p><p>It isn’t fair. And she does deserve better, better than him. Of course she does. (He’s never good enough, isn’t he?). He blinks the tears away from his eyes. This isn’t about him, it wouldn’t be fair.</p><p>(Nothing in his life is fair. Nothing’s ever been fair. From the moment he was left without his siblings in that group home, or maybe even before that).</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry” He is. He’s so very, very sorry. He’s never wanted to hurt her. He’s never wanted to hurt anybody (But he did, didn’t he?). Now he’s the one who can’t meet her eyes. He’s never been brave. And dammit, he can’t really seem to stop the tears.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, now, no. I’m not mad, Michael. You’re not a bad person. You’re a good person, who’s had a bad life”.</p><p> </p><p>So now he’s crying and laughing, and Maria might be crying and laughing too, and Michael is hit with a wave of such overwhelming <em>love</em>, he almost chokes on it.  </p><p> </p><p>“You’re my best friend, y’know?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, I know. You’re my best friend too” She bumps their shoulders together. “And not just because all my other best friends either died or skipped town” She winks at him and smiles. “This isn’t us breaking up, okay? This is us getting back on the right track. We’ve made a wrong turn with this sex business, but we’re setting it right”.</p><p> </p><p>Michael wants to smile too, but her mention of Rosa hurts his heart. Maria <em>is</em> his best friend. She’s part of his family. He trusts her enough to babysit Halley. And if he’s learned something is that family means no more lies. Maybe Michael can’t love Maria the way she deserves, but he can still give her something she deserves. He can give her the truth. Or, at least, A Truth. Just like he gave Isobel when he had nothing else to give.</p><p> </p><p>He pulls back from Maria, and looks at her solemnly. He’s really glad they’ve already put their clothes back on. He takes a big breath.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re my best friend, Maria. I, I need to tell you something”</p><p> </p><p>“Sure, you can tell me anything” He can see she’s not grasping the gravity of the situation. Which is fair. He did come out with the need to (mostly) confess the third biggest secret of his life kinda out of nowhere.</p><p> </p><p>“No, listen. I need to tell you the truth about something, because you deserve it, but you might not want to ever talk to me again after it. I’ll understand if you don’t. but please, at least, listen to the whole thing before you kick me out. Okay?”</p><p> </p><p>He looks her in the eyes, searching her face. Her eyes are wide, she nods. He has her full attention now. It’s a heady feeling, having Maria Deluca entirely focused on you, stronger men than him have fallen.</p><p> </p><p>“Okay. Okay” He knows he’s decided to tell her, but it’s still hard to start. It helps that recently Isobel’s decided to tell her mom a non-alien version of the Noah situation. She’s really trying to live her truth-led life, his brave sister. Oh, he can start with that.</p><p> </p><p>“So, Max and Isobel Evens are actually my siblings. We got separated in the system, they got adopted, I didn’t, took a few years until we’ve found each other again”.   Maria already knew, or suspected, about the great times he didn’t have in the system. Cigarette burns’ scars are pretty distinct, and he’s never really tried hiding his body, even from people he doesn’t have sex with.</p><p> </p><p>Maria huffs. “That’s the big secret? I mean, it does explain a few things. Do you think I’ll never speak to you again for being Ice Barbie’s brother? You know l already know you were close with her. I’ve been to your daughter’s birthday parties. And, I was even completely civil!”</p><p> </p><p>“Uh, yeah, no, that’s just like a basic fact you need to understand the rest. Mostly how it was a big deal when we found each other back in Roswell” But he smiles a bit, mainly because Maria <em>had</em> been civil. He hopes he doesn’t ruin that forever.</p><p> </p><p>“Okay, Okay, I promise I’ll listen to everything you have to say, but I just have to ask- are you’ like’ triplets? ‘cause that’s a bit weird”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, um, no” Probably. “Max and Is are definitely twins. They have that twins’ ESP shit and everything” They do, much more than him. Maria’s spiritual, she’ll get it. “We’re not really sure, but they’ve always thought I was their slightly younger brother, and the CPS people didn’t really bother and just stuck us all in the first grade when they found us”.</p><p> </p><p>“That’s nice. I’m glad you’ve found them, Michael, I truly am” Her eyes gleam “Isobel’s the oldest, right?”</p><p>“Oh” He laughs “Definitely”. But then he remembers the rest of the story he needs to tell her, and his smile turns somber.</p><p> </p><p>“The rest of this story isn’t so happy, Deluca. Don’t say I didn’t warn you”</p><p> </p><p>Her mood changes immediately at his words, and she gestures for him to carry on,</p><p> </p><p>“When we were fourteen, something happened. To Isobel. Something… not good. She got hurt. Because I wanted to do something I knew she wouldn’t enjoy. Something that was for me. Anyway, she changed after that. It left her vulnerable. Maybe you remember, in high school, how she used to act weird, sometimes? Be… different?”  </p><p> </p><p>“Yeah” Maria says softly. “I thought she might be on drugs. Especially when she started hanging out with…”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah. And you’re not wrong. But it’s… it’s worse than that. You see-“ Michael hesitated “There was a man. A monster, really. He had a thing for teenage girls”.</p><p> </p><p>Maria’s hand flies to her mouth, her eyes huge, like saucers, but she doesn’t say anything to interrupt Michael, and he’s pathetically grateful for that. He’s not sure he’ll be able to start again if he stopped now.</p><p> </p><p>“He was evil. Controlling. Feeding her… drugs. We didn’t realize. I’ll never forgive myself for that. But that’s not why I’m telling you this. I’m telling you, because you have a right to know. Because that man, that monster, became obsessed with Rosa Ortecho”. Michael stops to catch his breath. Maria is visibly crying now, and he can tell she wants to say something, but her mouth is moving without making a sound.</p><p> </p><p>“Please” He begs “Just let me finish telling you. I’ll never be able to get it out otherwise”</p><p> </p><p>She nods, wiping at her tear-stained face.</p><p> </p><p>“He used Isobel to lure Rosa out to the desert. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry” He’s babbling now, he has to finish, has to tell her exactly why he’s not worthy of her love, her friendship.</p><p> </p><p>“Rosa didn’t return his feelings. So he killed her. He killed her and the other girls”</p><p>Maria’s sobbing openly now, but Michael knows there’s worse yet to come. He pushes on.</p><p> </p><p>“When we got there, Max and I, he was gone. Isobel was unconscious. She didn’t remember anything. We didn’t even know what really happened that night until years later. We only knew our sister was found in the scene of a murder, with nobody else around to take the blame. We were terrified out of our minds that they’ll separate us again. And Maria. Maria. I’m so sorry, please, I’m so sorry…”</p><p> </p><p>“You put them in the car. You put them in the car, and you put Rosa in the driver seat, and you made everyone in town believe she was a junkie who killed herself and two other girls”. Maria whispers. Michael nods, he feels helpless. She’s gonna throw him out now. And yet, he can’t bring himself to regret it. The truth is important, even if it hurts. Michael knows that better than most.</p><p> </p><p>“Wait. You… you said you didn’t know? How do you know now? How are you so sure your precious sister isn’t a murderer?” Maria’s angry now. Good. Angry is better than sad. This too is something Michael knows well.</p><p> </p><p>“Uh, he, uh, he came back, about three years ago. Inserted himself back into Isobel’s life. She started acting weird again. He looked so normal, he was nice…” Michael shakes that thought off. “Monsters look just like normal people, you know” He barks out a short, bitter, laugh. “Only this time he didn’t get away with it. This time we’ve caught him. He told Isobel everything, didn’t even try to deny it”. Michael steals himself, are looks up to meet Maria’s eyes.</p><p> </p><p>“He won’t be coming back”</p><p> </p><p>Maria’s voice is ice cold, but her eyes are pure fire.</p><p> </p><p>“Good”.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Maria tells him she needs some time, after they manage to collect themselves. Michael fully expects this time to be the rest of his natural life. It’s not. He really doesn’t deserve Maria Deluca, but luckily, inexplicably, he doesn’t get what he deserves (As usual, only not at all like usual). Instead, he gets her friendship.</p><p> </p><p>……………………………………………………………………..</p><p> </p><p>Michael is twenty-six, and he’s, apparently, an idiot. He used to think he was smart. A genius, even, when he was feeling especially good about himself, but obviously, he was wrong. He knows nothing.</p><p> </p><p>“Nooooooooooooooo! No! No! No!”</p><p> </p><p>“Okay, okay, so not this one. How about this one?” Michael pulled out their copy of “The Balloon Tree”. “You love this one!”</p><p> </p><p>“No! I hate it. ‘s stupid! Stupid!”</p><p> </p><p> Yeah. Michael was stupid. He was stupid and all the books they have in the house were stupid and dinner was also stupid and bedtime was the stupidest of all.</p><p> </p><p>Stupid seemed to be Halley’s new favorite word this week. Michael was getting desperate.</p><p> </p><p>“Okay, Halley-baby. How ‘bout I make up a story? No book. A story just for you”</p><p>Halley looks at him suspiciously “Daddy tells a new story?”</p><p>“Yeah! A new story!”</p><p> </p><p>Michael tried really hard not to let her see how relieved he was. Children smell your fear, you know.</p><p> </p><p>“So” He settled down on the bed next to her, leaning against the headboard. “What should the story be about?”</p><p>“Daddy!”</p><p>“Well, I’m telling the story”</p><p>“Daddy and Halley!”</p><p>“Halley-baby, you know what? You are absolutely right. You, darling, are a genius”.</p><p> </p><p>She is. Even if Michael is a stupid dum dum sometimes, his daughter is the smartest three-year-old on this planet, and possibly others. That’s just a fact.</p><p> </p><p>“Okay, are you ready? You need to listen carefully, this is an important story”</p><p> </p><p>Halley nodded solemnly, her dark eyes huge. Michael handed her Bunny from where he has fallen off the foot of the bed, and she cuddled up against his side, pulling the blanket up around her. Prime bedtime story conditions achieved, Michael began.</p><p> </p><p>“Once upon a time, there was a boy”</p><p>“Daddy?”</p><p>“Yes, the boy was daddy, but he didn’t know it yet. Right now, he was just a boy, who was lost in the desert.”</p><p>Halley gasped “Lost?? Why was he lost, daddy? Where was his Aunt Izzy and Uncle Max and Auntie Maria?”</p><p>“I’ll tell you, just listen to the story, okay?”</p><p>Halley nodded fiercely.</p><p> </p><p>“Well then. Once upon a time, there was a boy, and he was all alone and lost in the desert. He wandered around in the sand, looking for his family.</p><p> </p><p>One day, he found a cactus. “Would you like to be my family?” he asked, but the cactus was prickly and bad at hugs, so the boy wandered on.</p><p> </p><p>Next, he met a snake. “Would you like to be my friend?”, he asked the snake, but the snake just bit him, and slithered away.</p><p> </p><p>Then the boy looked up to the sky. “Would you like to be mine?” he asked the sun. But the sun was harsh and bright and burning. Still, the boy was getting pretty tired by now, so he decided to lie back in the sand, and rest for a bit. Eventually, the sun went down, and the boy felt even lonelier than before.</p><p> </p><p>But then, as the stars were coming to life all through the desert sky, he suddenly saw a figure, growing nearer and nearer, as it flew down from the stars. The figure landed next to him, and the boy saw it was a bird. The largest, most beautiful bird he’s ever seen, with gleaming black feathers, and wise, dark eyes. “Hello” said the bird. “I heard your call. You don’t have to be lonely anymore”. And for a while, the bird stayed with the boy, and the boy was happy.</p><p> </p><p>Then the day came, when the bird had to leave. “Please don’t go,” said the boy “I don’t want to be alone again”. “I’m sorry”, said the bird “I have to go. I’m a bird, and I belong to the sky, and you are a boy who belongs to the desert”. And the boy cried, because he knew the bird couldn’t stay.</p><p> </p><p>“Please don’t cry,” said the bird. “I did not forget my promise. You will never have to be alone again”. The bird plucked a long, shining, feather from his wing. “This is a magic feather, it will heal that which is broken. Lay out your hand”.</p><p> </p><p>And the boy laid out his injured hand, that the cactus pricked and the snake bit and the sun burned, and expected the magic feather to heal it. But instead, the feather turned into an egg. And the boy understood. The injury the bird wanted to heal wasn’t in his hand. It was in his heart.</p><p> </p><p>“And if you ever miss me, look to the horizon, where the desert meets the sky, and remember you are not alone”.</p><p> </p><p>“Thank you” said the boy. “I will never forget you”.</p><p> </p><p>As the bird flew away towards the stars, the egg began to crack, and from it hatched a baby! And the baby cried and cried, and from all around, people heard the sound of the baby’s cry, and they searched the desert until they found the boy and his baby, and they became a family, and the boy was happy”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“And the baby was Halley!”</p><p>“That’s right, chicklet. The baby was Halley. You saved me! you’re a hero, you know”</p><p>“Yes.” Halley agreed readily. Happy to accept her role as a savior of all alien kind.</p><p>“But even heroes need to sleep” Michael stood up from the bed, fussing around until Halley was tucked properly under the blanket with Bunny. He leaned down to kiss her forehead.  </p><p>“Goodnight, star-shine”</p><p>“Night, daddy”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The Bedtime Legend of the Bird and the Boy was told frequently in Michael’s house after that. And on clear nights, Michael would take his baby out to the desert, his first home, and they would lie on the bed of his truck under the starry desert night, look to the horizon, and hope for their bird to come back.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>So, Michael deals with sexual assault in a foster home as a teenager. It's off page and not described at all, but it leads to an unwanted pregnancy, which he then terminates, and obviously to some long term effects on his mental health and on the way he deals with relationships. There is some discussion of dealing with and healing from sexual assault, so be careful with yourselves.<br/>As for the mpreg, like I wrote in the opening notes, I couldn't resist the possibility of alien biology. There is no A/B/O or body horror. Neither the sex nor the birth are explicit.<br/>There is some mentions of blood and violence, mostly similar to canon.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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